Part 5 (1/2)

And the King: ”O speak not of Odin to me, The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be.”

Looking straight at the King, with her level brows, She said, ”I keep true to my faith and my vows.”

Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with gloom, He rose in his anger and strode through the room.

”Why, then, should I care to have thee?” he said,-- ”A faded old woman, a heathenish jade!”

His zeal was stronger than fear or love, And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove.

Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled, And the wooden stairway shook with his tread.

Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath, ”This insult, King Olaf, shall be thy death!”

Heart's dearest, Why dost thou sorrow so?

V.

THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS.

Now from all King Olaf's farms His men-at-arms Gathered on the Eve of Easter; To his house at Angvalds-ness Fast they press, Drinking with the royal feaster.

Loudly through the wide-flung door Came the roar Of the sea upon the Skerry; And its thunder loud and near Reached the ear, Mingling with their voices merry.

”Hark!” said Olaf to his Scald, Halfred the Bald, ”Listen to that song, and learn it!

Half my kingdom would I give, As I live, If by such songs you would earn it!

”For of all the runes and rhymes Of all times, Best I like the ocean's dirges, When the old harper heaves and rocks, His h.o.a.ry locks Flowing and flas.h.i.+ng in the surges!”

Halfred answered: ”I am called The Unappalled!

Nothing hinders me or daunts me.

Hearken to me, then, O King, While I sing The great Ocean Song that haunts me.”

”I will hear your song sublime Some other time,”

Says the drowsy monarch, yawning, And retires; each laughing guest Applauds the jest; Then they sleep till day is dawning.

Pacing up and down the yard, King Olaf's guard Saw the sea-mist slowly creeping O'er the sands, and up the hill, Gathering still Round the house where they were sleeping.

It was not the fog he saw, Nor misty flaw, That above the landscape brooded; It was Eyvind Kallda's crew Of warlocks blue, With their caps of darkness hooded!

Round and round the house they go, Weaving slow Magic circles to enc.u.mber And imprison in their ring Olaf the King, As he helpless lies in slumber.

Then athwart the vapors dun The Easter sun Streamed with one broad track of splendor!

In their real forms appeared The warlocks weird, Awful as the Witch of Endor.

Blinded by the light that glared, They groped and stared Round about with steps unsteady; From his window Olaf gazed, And, amazed, ”Who are these strange people?” said he.

”Eyvind Kellda and his men!”

Answered then From the yard a st.u.r.dy farmer; While the men-at-arms apace Filled the place, Busily buckling on their armor.

From the gates they sallied forth, South and north, Scoured the island coast around them, Seizing all the warlock band, Foot and hand On the Skerry's rocks they bound them.

And at eve the king again Called his train, And, with all the candles burning, Silent sat and heard once more The sullen roar Of the ocean tides returning.

Shrieks and cries of wild despair Filled the air, Growing fainter as they listened; Then the bursting surge alone Sounded on;-- Thus the sorcerers were christened!